


Waking Life

by Bayyvon



Category: Penelope (2006)
Genre: F/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 03:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12761841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bayyvon/pseuds/Bayyvon
Summary: He thinks he sees her everywhere. Hell, he does.





	Waking Life

 

Johnny sighs as he pushes through the wide doors of the Cloverdilly pub, peeling off his cap, and digging through his pocket for enough change to maybe buy himself a beer. He spots a girl with wild brown curls sitting at the end of the bar in a large purple coat sewn with loud, colorful buttons down the front. A moss and lavender scarf is wrapped around her face, but he can still see her eyes. Brown. A soft brown he wants a closer look at. She's got a mug of beer in her hands, and it's steadily disappearing, but he can't quite figure out how. That is, until she places the glass back on the gleaming wooden bar, to reveal a little black straw bobbing around in what's left of her beer. The left side of his mouth just barely quirks upwards and he begins to walk towards her when Jack greets him loudly.

 

"The usual, yeah?"

 

"Thanks, Jack."

 

He notices Scarf Girl perks up at the sound of his voice, but doesn't move from her barstool. He can see her sneaking glances from the corner of her eye.

 

Maybe he knew her.

 

Potentially, a girl that had ended up in his bed, and woke alone when the morning came with a note beside her spilling a well rehearsed, sickly sweet apology.

 

Or, maybe....

 

No. There's no way. Not a snowball's chance in hell it was her.

 

He thanks Jack once more, offering a handful of dimes in exchange for his mug. He passes her, and almost manages to convince himself it  _was_ her as her eyes widen in recognition. But she doesn't say anything. Not his girl. His brown hair brown eyes beautiful girl would have said something. Something witty and charming and maybe smacked him on the arm for paying in change.

 

_"That was very rude, Max."_ She'd say. And he'd be able to hear the smile in her voice behind the scarf. 

 

He settles at a far table, observing his surroundings for a while. Scarf Girl has had three beers since he'd been here. He can't quite make out her voice from way back here, but he imagines it's hers.

 

_"Can I have another?"_ She would ask. And she'd giggle.

 

She sways just a tad. And he smiles. He'd finished his one drink a long time ago, but couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from her. She'd been glancing back at him occasionally, once every half hour or so. He asks the older gentleman to his right for the paper he had sat down and feels his gut twist when he flips it over.

 

"You're  _fucking_ kidding me!"

 

**BEHOLD: THE PIG-FACED GIRL**

 

Penelope. His beautiful girl. Exploited. On the front page of the goddamn Daily. He sees nothing but a red haze. They called her an 'it'.

 

Paper still curled in his fist, he bolts. And if he would have been watching as diligently as before, he would have seen Scarf Girl briefly reach for him as he skirted past her.

 

He slams the paper down on Lemon's desk. His fury had died down on his walk from the pub. But my god if he was going to keep that sick bastards money. He resists the urge to throw it. "That's half'a whatcha gave me. You'll get the rest back when I'm ready."

 

"Let's just call it even-" Lemon attempts to hand him back the cash but Johnny would rather have all his fingers broken than accept another penny from Lemon.

 

"No. Let's  _not._ " He begins to leave, punctuating his departure with a sting. "She's not some  _freakin' payday_!"

 

Lemon is trying to speak to him, and he just barely catches it.

 

"She sold me the photo herself." When Johnny turns just like Lemon had expected him to, he continues. "Yeah. Apparently she's out there, on her own. Declaring her independence."

 

Johnny can only purse his lips and nod.

 

Lemon's words echo as he approaches the elevator and hits the button. " _Apparently shes out there, on her own."_

He smiles as the doors close on him.

 

It could have been her.

 

°°°

"Let's just say, I didn't appreciate a good thing when I had it."

 

His voice nearly breaks, and if Sam notices the tears that prick his eyes, he says nothing.

 

"Oh, an' now ya do?"

 

"Now I do." He nods.

 

Sam disappears into the back, and Johnny cautiously approaches the stage where a large piano sits. It taunts him as he flexes his fingers, flipping up the lid and sitting behind it. Its almost foriegn when he tests the weight of the keys beneath his fingers. It comes as second nature as he thinks about her, on that stage. Can almost hear the music he wrote an entire lifetime ago, coming back up his throat.

_And here comes the night_

_Pullin' puppet strings_

_On my heart again..._

The rest of the verse blurs but the bridge is clear.

 

"You're still on my mind," except now, it's not about some girl he knew in highschool, it's about her. He thinks he saw her, that night, at the Dilly, but who is he kidding? It wasn't her, and hell, he thinks he sees her everywhere. He does see her everywhere. Flowers pushing out of concrete, the color of the sky, carnival lights, aquariums. The girl with the scarf that whizzes by him on a Vespa.

 

"Oi, Mozart." Sam startles him, and his hands falter. The notes cacaphone and discord and he's left with aching silence.

 

°°°

 

**PENELOPE SAYS 'HI'**

Johnny chuckles, and adds it to his stack of papers. Someone seemed to be talking about her every single day. He probably would too, given the chance.

 

"She speaks four languages!" Sam exclaims when Johnny discards his jacket and begins his work. "I can barely speak bloody English."

 

He laughs. He knew. "Italian, German, French, and Spanish." 

 

The radio breaks his concentration when begins to chitter excitedly and Sam rushes to the other side of the bar.

 

"Shu'up!" Sam shushes him and turns up the radio. They were interviewing Vanderman.

 

_"Is it true you tried to file assult charged againt Penelope?"_

Johnny grips the handle of his broom tighter. If that little maggot laid a fucking hand on her-

 

_"That woman- that..... Thing- belongs in a cage."_ Edward sounds so cheerful and confident it makes bile raise in Johnny's throat.

 

"Disgusting, iddnit?" Sam shakes his head. "That slimey git'll get wha'e deserves, ay?"

 

"You have no idea," Johnny clenches his jaw, relaxes his hands and goes back to his sweeping.

 

°°°

 

"Penelope! Penelope!"

One half of the large crowd chants as Johnny pushes his way towards them.

"Bulls-eye! Bullseye!" 

 

He can just barely see her as she launches the dart across the room. It hits the corkboard will a dull  _tack._ Just below the bullseye. It's a three, but she and her dart playing companions seem excited. She reels back and is prepared to launch the second dart when it falters in her hand and whizzes towards Johnny. It skitters through glass and lands at his feet. She makes her way towards him and everything seems to stop entirely.

 

 He sees her. Really this time. Out in the open. Clumsy with darts in her hands as she turns to address the dart players. "I told you I wasnt any good." She nearly runs into him, and then nearly runs away. He watches her tense as she greets him.

 

Once his mouth is open, Johnny can't seem to make the babble stop. "Wow." He chuckles. It's nervous but he pushes on. "You really did it, huh? I mean...uh." The flash of camera bulbs startle him. "I mean uh," he gives her a very obvious once over. "You look great! Yknow, really happy."

 

"Thanks." She isnt very sure where he wants to go with this so she lets him ramble.

 

"Yknow. You inspired me." He breathes in deeply. "Doin' whatcha did. Goin' off on your own like that. I, uh.... I'm not...."

 

"I have to go."

 With that, she leaves, he watches her go with his heart in his throat. And wishes he would have said yes to Penelope Wilhern.


End file.
